


Oh Darling, Just Once More?

by Caubool



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/F, Fluff, Haunted Houses, Humor, It's just Rose and Kanaya flirting in the dark, Romance, Rose is a vampire, Suggestive Themes, Trash Fiction, Useless Lesbians, Vampires, no beta we die like men, shameless flirting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24187639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caubool/pseuds/Caubool
Summary: To any, I repeat, TO ANY, of you homicidal maniacs looking to tickle your jollies at the prospect of an actual ghoul in our stupid cliche manor on a hill take a second. Stop. Look deep inside yourself and ask: is it really that worth it to become the next laughing stock of the town to try and sneak into a police barricade to find some weird drunk lady in the dark?  It is not. It is so very much not. Don't do it.Do not do it.---Your name is Kanaya Maryam, and you have every intention of getting into that manor.
Relationships: Kanaya Maryam/Vriska Serket (mentioned), Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam
Comments: 11
Kudos: 19





	Oh Darling, Just Once More?

**LOCAL TRANSYLVANIA CRYPTID? LEILAHOND MANOR SPOTTED WITH SHADOWY FIGURE INSIDE.**   
By Karkat Vantas at 03:24 AM October 28th 

It is no strange occurrence for the locals of our quaint little town to see hooligans sneaking about, trying to break into our ONE actual source of tourism for their flimsy thrills. Teens and shabby amateur "ghost hunters" ready to stake it all on the line to connect with "demons" and "evil spirits" via cheap plastic boards and only coming out with a shiny new criminal record or tetanus. Sometimes both. You all remember those idiot YouTubers who became arrested vandals at the end of the night two years ago when they broke in to the Manor. As a community we can all band together and laugh at their stupidity. 

Let's take a moment right now, even! Hah! Hah hah hah hah! Trespassing and delusions are hilarious!

Despite our collective annoyance, no one can deny their own sick fascination with the place. Damn, did someone really die there? Can they maybe start signing autographs and paying taxes while they're at it? I would certainly enjoy a few more potholes sealed up sometime soon. But alas, since we all know it's a giant hoax, my shocks will just have to shatter whenever I drive down Hickman. So when reports started flooding in to the sheriff's department last night about "lights in the house", they only sent one sorry chap to check it out and scare whoever was camped out in there that night. 

Imagine their surprise when the guy calls back in a hurry demanding a full unit be sent out because _no one_ was there and he claimed to see a hulking dark shadow lurking just out of sight. 

"Nitram wouldn't shut up, he was cramming the radio full of half coherent jabber and his partner Serket wasn't any help, as per usual," Sollux Captor, head of evidence and technology, said. "We didn't have anything else to do that night so Pyrope, English, Serket, and Leijon went out to see what's what. Like I said, slow night. People were curious. They got there and Nitram was spitting theories like a conspiracy nut on Reddit. Pyrope dared him to prove it and he showed them a dining room, where, I **** you not, a literal mistress of evil was standing at the head of the table. Apparently she winked, hoisted her wine glass, and then the lights flashed and she vanished." 

According to the rest of the officers, their accounts match up to a startling degree. So clearly, something is happening in that godforsaken house. The police are currently making a barricade to keep curious onlookers out while they suss out just what is going on. 

To any, I repeat, TO ANY, of you homicidal maniacs looking to tickle your jollies at the prospect of an actual ghoul in our stupid cliche manor on a hill take a second. Stop. Look deep inside yourself and ask: is it really that worth it to become the next laughing stock of the town to try and sneak into a police barricade to find some weird drunk lady in the dark? It is not. It is so very much not. Don't do it. 

Do not do it. 

You will just be arrested and defaced in the eyes of your loved ones. Leave it to the professionals and I will personally swoop by and give you a hearty pat on the back for resisting the temptation. 

Do not test me I will do it, I absolutely will bust down your door at seven in the morning just to slap you on the shoulder and say "CONGRATS YOU DID THE NORMAL THING!" Send me an email if your mind has been swayed and I'll put down a time. 

Sincerely, your faithful yet incredibly aggravated reporter,   
Karkat Vantas

\-------

Your name is Kanaya Maryam, and you have every intention of getting into that manor. 

You know exactly how you'll do it, too. One Ms. Serket still owes you plenty of favors for...well, for _stuff_. 

(You would rather not sit here, in your softest dressing gown, perched on a chaise lounge above your shop on this cold blustery day, watching the dawn through a barely shuttered window, and reminisce on silly no-where relationships with far too much effort thrown into them. It's a personal preference.) 

Vriska owes you _several_ solids, that's all that matters, and since she's on the case it will be easy enough to get in. Though, if you're honest--and who isn't honest with their own thoughts?--you don't really know what you're going to do once you get in there. Sure, you have _fantasies_ about what could happen but no real idea. 

Your chest heaves with a sigh, you lean further into your lounge and let your eyes close. 

You do need to think seriously about all this, of course. You could be arrested. But, you'd rather not think of anything save for flashing fangs in the moonlight. 

You've barely had your eyes closed for ten seconds when you settle on distracting yourself with conversation. If you truly are going through with this--how silly, of course you are--then you know just who to ask about your dilemma. 

This entire set up is very cliche, straight out of one of your _private_ books. And there is only one other person who has ever touched your private books. 

\--grimAuxilitrix [GA] has begun pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 5:29 on 09/28/20XX--

GA: I Read Your Article 

CG: DID YOU LIKE IT? I WASN'T QUITE SURE ABOUT THE ENDING MYSELF, IT FELT LIKE A HALF HEARTED BONER POPPING IN AT THE PORNHUB AWARDS. 

GA: The Writing Was Fine I Dont Know Why You Worry About That 

CG: JESUS CHRIST KANAYA, IT IS WAY TOO EARLY TO GET INTO MY OWN MENTAL WHATEVERTHEFUCK.   
CG: YOU KNOW THAT'S WHAT I'D SAY SO SPIT IT OUT. YOU'RE ONLY EVER UP THIS EARLY WHEN YOU'RE OVER THINKING SOMETHING. 

GA: You Will Not Be Happy About It

CG: IT'S THAT SERIOUS? 

GA: Yes   
GA: My Brain Has Been Working Over Time On This Problem And I Am Stumped   
GA: You Are The Best Person To Talk To About This Situation But You Will Hate Everything I am Going To Tell You 

CG: SHIT KANAYA.   
CG: IS SOMEONE GIVING YOU TROUBLE? IS IT VRISKA? YOU KNOW I WILL NOT HESITATE TO SLAP THAT SPIDER BITCH WITHIN AN INCH OF HER MEASLY SELF FULFILLED SHITTILY MADE WET SLOPPY SPAGHETTI LIFE. 

GA: On No That Is Not Why You Will Hate It   
GA: I Am Quite Comfortable With Fighting My Own Battles So Calm Yourself   
GA: But Also Get Ready To Shout   
GA: I Am Getting Into The Manor To Flirt Shamelessly With The Vampire Mistress Of The Household 

CG: ...  
CG: ........  
CG: .............  
CG: ARE YOU ********KIDDING******** ME????????????????

GA: No Im Serious 

CG: EXCUSE ME FOR A MOMENT WHILE I SCREAM. 

GA: Go Ahead 

CG: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHBUDFSBHIFBIHFIHUEWjoiwfq'ijew'oh'woeuBHFLIUBBGIQ;iyiygIUGBHLFLHBIAERILUHLBIUERGBLIGRABIULAEROHUHUEGWBUBILUAEBLIUABEFIULVNVIAUBIUVNJ VDBU V DXXD99W7AFOAIUBEHAIUBDVALIEFHIOW9H]0 [92q8p9ugioshkhp89wheufinPUP9URHIUIURBILHALEIBJK

GA: You Good Over There

CG: I LITERALLY TOLD YOU NOT TO DO THAT EXACT THING LIKE TWO??? HOURS AGO???   
CG: THIS IS WHY I HAVE TO HAMMER IN THE CLOSING SO HARD INSTEAD OF TYING IT OFF LIKE A GOOD FUCKING PIECE OF PO' DUNK FIRE FODDER LITERATURE.   
CG: DO I HAVE TO HAMMER IT IN ***HARDER***????? APPARANTLY!!!!!!!!!!  
CG: SHOULD I COME OVER AND SHAKE SOME FUCKING SENSE INTO YOU?????

GA: Thats Unnecessary  
GA: I Already Have A Way In And You Will Not Be Able To Convince Me Not To Do It So Please Chill The Fuck Out   
GA: No I Need Your Romantic Advice  
GA: On How To Best End Up Being Turned Into A Vampire At The End Of The Night And Maybe Also How To Rail The Vampire Mistress 

CG: I'M NOT GOING TO SIT HERE AND SAY YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE WHO'S READ BODICE RIPPERS, OR EVEN SUPERNATURALLY INCLINED PIECES OF FLAMING SMUT, BUT VAMPIRES ARE PRETTY FAR OUT OF MY WHEELHOUSE.   
CG: MY PEACEFUL WHEELHOUSE SITTING CALMLY IN A WHEAT FIELD, BECAUSE IT'S A GODDAMNED CLICHE HOW SCENIC AND PEACEFUL THIS FUCKING WHEELHOUSE IS.   
CG: AND HERE YOU COME WITH A FLAMING TORCH YOU'VE INSCRIBED WITH VAMPIRES REARING UP THE PITCH STRAIGHT INTO MY SOFT HAYLOFT. MY PRIZED STALLIONS OF TRASHY ROMANCE GO WILD WITH FEAR AND STREAM OUT OF MY WHEELHOUSE.   
CG: THE ONLY THING EVEN SLIGHTLY RESEMBLING VAMPIRE SHIT IN MY WHEELHOUSE IS THE PIRATE WHATEVER THAT I HOLD OVER FROM MIDDLE SCHOOL FOR SOME REASON NEITHER I NOR ANYONE ELSE CAN FATHOM.   
CG: WHAT IS IT WITH YOU AND FALLING FOR GIRLS WHO WEAR LOOSE WHITE SHIRTS WITH A SLIT DOWN THE MIDDLE?

GA: I Know My Tastes   
GA: In Any Case I Just Need To Know If My Fantasies Are Possible And How To Best Incorporate Them Into Reality

CG: SO YOU'RE MAKING ME YOUR ACCOMPLICE. 

GA: No Because These Are Fantasies That I Am Asking Your Opinion Of Not Any Plans To Break Into Any Proverbial Place 

CG: YET. 

GA: Not As Far As You will Be Aware

CG: HHHHAAAAAUUUUUUUGGGGHHHHHH.   
CG: FINE! FINE WHATEVER!!!  
CG: I'M TIRED AND THIS IS ALL BULLSHIT ANYWAYS.   
CG: WHAT ARE YOUR FANTASIES KANAYA. KEEP THEM SAFE FOR WORK. FOR ME. 

GA: I Make No Promises But I Can Try To Restrain Myself   
GA: Firstly I Want To Be Provocatively Dressed Something Loose And With Good Drape While Being Slightly Revealing 

CG: YOU WANT TO BE A TEASE. 

GA: Yes How Else Will The Vampire Know My Neck Is Entirely Up For Grabs If I Do Not Flaunt It Every Chance I Get 

CG: YOU COULD TELL HER. 

GA: Absolutely Not   
GA: Thats What Makes Our Interactions So Juicy We Talk And Talk And Skate Around What We Really Want To Say Until One Of Us Snaps And Presses The Other Up Against Some Piece Of Furniture And Breathes Their Questions Against The Others Lips 

CG: JESUS CHRIST YOU ARE REPRESSED. 

GA: Im Ambitious   
GA: Secondly I Want To Dine With Her   
GA: Not For Any Real Reason I Just Think It Would Be Interesting And Also Id Like To See How She Looks Over The Brim Of My Wine Glass  
GA: And Then I Want Her To Introduce Me To Her World And She Will Offer Me Vampirism   
GA: And Maybe Something More 

CG: AND WHAT IF YOU JUST FIND SOME WEIRDO WHO ISN'T UP TO YOUR ROMANTIC EXPECTATIONS? 

GA: Well I Can Still Be A Vampire So I Will Get Plenty Of Time To Be Ashamed And Embarrassed

CG: WELL, TO ME ANYWAYS, IT SOUNDS LIKE YOU ALREADY KNOW WHAT YOU WANT TO DO. YOU'LL GET IN, FIND THE LADY, SPEND DINNER MAKING WEIRD QUIPS AT EACH OTHER AND THEN SHE'LL BITE YOU OR SOMETHING. 

GA: And Then We Mess Up The Dining Table 

CG: KANAYA PLEASE I REALLY DON'T NEED TO KNOW YOUR KINKS. 

GA: I Hardly Touched My Kinks But Very Well  
GA: If Thats How You Feel   
GA: Anyways Are You Saying Its Possible

CG: SURE?? IT'S POSSIBLE BUT AGAIN NOT SUPER LIKELY BECAUSE FUCKING DUH. SHE'LL PROBABLY JUST SEE YOU AND DIP LIKE SHE DID WITH THE COPS.   
CG: IF SHE EVEN EXISTS WHICH SHE PROBABLY DOESN'T.

GA: There Are Two Major Differences Between Me And The Police   
GA: I Will Be Entirely Alone And Also Incredibly Vulnerable To Any Potential Supernatural Charms   
GA: And Also I Am A Beautiful Lady With Pure Blood Untainted By Any Mortal Sin  
GA: I Am The Perfect Bait   
GA: A Gentle Soft Spoken Protagonist In Easily Removable Clothing   
GA: What Vampire Would Be Able To Turn Me Away Especially If I Say I Am Looking For Refuge On A Particularly Stormy Night 

CG: MY HEAD IS SO FAR BURIED IN MY HANDS I THINK I CAN SEE THE BLOOD CELLS IN MY VEINS GETTING BOGGED DOWN WITH STRESS. THIS MIGHT AS WELL HAPPEN I GUESS.   
CG: JUST DON'T FUCKING DIE? OR GET EATEN? OR POSSESSED?   
CG: IF THINGS START LOOKING TOO PROTAGONIST-Y IN THERE PROMISE ME YOU'LL BAIL. 

GA: I Will Bail Before Anyone Tries To Take Proper Un-Sexy Advantage Of My Act Dont Worry

CG: OKAY. COOL. COOL. COOL.   
CG: WHEN ARE YOU GOING ANYWAYS?

GA: Tonight   
GA: In A Proverbial Sense Of Course

CG: BHEFHYSDFDSHIUGRIUESFHIUHUEAFBHAFEHIU

\------- 

Your sense was not at all proverbial, something likely to give Karkat a stress ulcer when he finds out what you're currently up to if he hasn't already.

What _are_ you currently up to anyways? A fair question. As you skillfully dodge the thorns of a blackberry bush while you navigate the underbrush near the Manor you can probably spend some time reviewing what's happened today. 

After your conversation with Karkat you set to work putting your outfit together. You're wearing a loose cotton shirt with wide billowing sleeves and a slit down the middle "hastily" sewn together with red thread. You've tucked the shirt into a very high waisted and fluttery blood red skirt that ends just at your ankles. Simple dark boots caked in dirt from your journey so far tie the ensemble together. You've slipped your curly hair under a loose scarf, deliberately letting it hang low to show off the smooth expanse of skin on your neck. 

You look like the girl straight out of a cheap horror flick set in Ye Olden Times. Perfect. All according to plan. 

You tried to make yourself as appealing as possible but you weren't sure what the aesthetic tastes of the vampire mistress would be. You can only guess that she would have a taste for the antique. The embarrassing thought that she may prefer modern avant garde attire has crossed your mind once or twice...somehow it's much less exciting to be cornered against a wall in multicolored bubble wrap.

You suppress a shudder at the mental image of harried breaths mingling with crinkling plastic and elect to harshly burn that train of thought forever. Load it with gasoline and set it aflame. 

The moon is bright and nearly full as you finally step onto the back lawn of the Manor. If you squint you can see a smudge of blue and wiry black hair near the back entrance. Glancing left, then right, just in case someone else is out and about, you finally nod to yourself and go sprinting across the lawn. The grass is wet with dew and you would weep for your skirt if you could. Alas a soaked hemline is convincing so you force yourself to suck it up. Once you get to the house you take the steps up the back porch two at a time and suddenly Vriska is right there. 

She's scowling, probably to herself, and her arms are crossed. She's staring off into the distance as she often does when deep in thought. Eugh, gross, you know her too well.

"Hello," you say, only slightly out of breath. 

Vriska regards you after a moment, eyes trailing up and down. She snorts and rolls her eyes, somehow crossing her arms harder. "Hello yourself. Can't believe you're actually serious about this."

"Of course I'm serious," you say, "why do people keep assuming I'm not?"

"Because you're supposed to be the normal one." Vriska shoots back, so quickly you have a feeling she's been planning what to say to you. "Looks like the crazy fanatic gene finally kicked in though." 

And she smirks like she's proud to have just insulted your mother's honor and your family's legacy. Or rather like she's expecting you to rise to her bait. That self-satisfied grin that says she's got some sort of boss music playing in her brain right now at full blast like she's just made a bomb threat or something. To get you all up in a huff and causing a scene, to stall in a pointless argument for when someone else shows up for their rounds. So she'll get off scott free from her favor and you will look like an _actual_ crazy fanatic. 

You narrow your eyes at her, and when you open your mouth to speak your lips curl ever so slightly away from your teeth. It would look much more threatening if you had fangs, but alas. 

"Yes, well, I hardly care for your dulled humor Vriska. It stopped being funny in elementary school. Now, please, if you would kindly fulfill your end of the bargain?" You say it with a sugary sweetness that you secretly hope gives her diabetes. 

Vriska clicks her teeth together, her nose flaring as she goes to pry open the back door for you. "I will arrest you if I see you again."

"Just open the door and not your mouth, Vriska."

She grumbles to herself but hauls the door open nonetheless. You have to stake the urge to pat her cheek condescendingly as you pass through the threshold. You do have some restraint though, despite how tempting the idea is. You don't even glance back at her as she closes the door on you. The thick _**clu-clunk**_ of the lock engaging echoes hollowly off the old wood of the house. 

You grin to no one. You're in. 

Currently you're in a small hallway, a door at the opposite end is lightly propped open. There's a small table near you with a handsome wall mirror hanging just above it. You pause in front of it to touch up your attire, slightly untucking your hair and rumpling your clothes. _I have to look distraught enough to be pitied,_ you think as you tilt your chin this way and that, inspecting yourself critically. 

Finally you feel ready. 

You take slow measured steps to the door across the hall, your hand closes around the handle and the chill of it sends a shock through your veins. You shiver, and the dark cloying atmosphere of the house feels charged with anticipation. 

When you push open the door it leads to another hall, much larger and running to your left and right. All along the walls are large portraits who's faces you can't see in the darkness of the manor. The windows have all been shut with dusty moth ridden curtains and you loathe to open any of them up; even if that means stumbling around mostly blind. 

You make your way up to the wall of portraits and gently lay your fingers on the old peeling wallpaper. It crinkles under your touch, just loudly enough to echo, and your breath hitches. You freeze, a panic seizing your chest for the barest of moments. The seconds tick on and still all you can hear is the blood in your veins pulsing faintly in your neck. All is quiet. 

The anticipation in the air slowly reclaims its hold over you as you let your breath release. 

You _knew_ this house was old, you knew that and you _knew_ there was something in this house! Specifically something potentially dangerous! How stupid of you to get spooked over crinkly old wall paper! You have half a mind to thunk your _forehead_ against the wall. Perhaps that will knock loose some of the braincells you'll need for the remainder of your journey. 

You sigh and shake your head, oh that thing feels fit to burst with silly notions tonight. 

Without further ado you take your next step into the manor. 

"Why hello there," a voice sweet as bells whispers right up against the shell of your ear. You spin in place, eyes wild, trying to see who was behind you. Your hand is cradling your ear like it had been burned. 

The darkness behind you betrays none of its secrets. If you squint you can make out the door where you had come from and the edges of the hallway, but little else. 

"Now, now," the voice croons again, still behind you. Your fingers feel the slight warm breeze of a mouth so very close by. As you move to spin around again a hand comes and rests ever so gently against your waist. The person behind you leans up into your back, their curves press flush against you and they feel cold even through your clothing. "I rarely get company. I need a moment to ready my face before I present it to a guest as inspiring as yourself." They say, letting their lips skim just over your knuckles before drawing back. 

You're trying very hard to keep your breathing even as they sink back, their head coming to rest between your shoulder blades. Your mind is blowing into overdrive. There's hardly time to process everything, not what they had said nor what was currently happening as you were processing. It's all just a tad crazy that your fantasies were probably coming true right this second so you've resigned yourself to screeching inhumanely in your brain. Karkat would be very impressed with you. 

The person at your back sighs, finally pulling away from you (something you may or may not be disappointed by) and removing their hand from your hip. "Thank you for your patience. I think I can stand being seen now." 

You swallow thickly, slowly turning around to face your host. They are at least a head shorter than you, a standard fare, but you find yourself entranced in awe nonetheless. "Hello," you manage. 

Your host chuckles, "hello to you too." And you're pretty sure Vriska must have knocked you out instead of actually letting you inside the manor. That your mind must be playing tricks on you. 

Standing before you is a plump well dressed figure. They are dressed in a sleek black gown that seems to melt into the floor. It has no straps or sleeves and seems to be staying up on their ample bosom through sheer force of will. They wear no gloves, but they do bear a single gold bracelet. Their hair is stark white, and possibly floating? You can't be sure, but it is definitely held somewhat in place by a golden headband. Their bangs just barely brush over their eyes. And _oh_ , those eyes. They are a bright lavender, piercing and lidded, and acting like landing lights for your own eyes. Their nose is round and scrunched as they smile at you. If the eyes made you dazed on your feet then the smile nearly sends you into anaphylactic shock. Their lips are painted dark, yet their hair barely illuminates a subtle red tint to the color that would surely be missed otherwise. And poking just over those luscious lips...are fangs. 

"My name is Rose, and I shall be your humble Lady of the Night for the evening. If you'll have my presence of course." 

You can't find your voice, even though, surely, it should be right where you left it. Your pulse is still beating rapidly, entranced by this slightly glowing beauty before you. In the darkness of the Manor she is nearly as blinding as the sun. She makes something inside you buckle under the weight of her gaze, your limbs straining to maintain their form. You take in a deep breath to calm yourself and it stutters the whole way. You take in another, slightly calmer, breath. And that's when you have to pause. There's something off about the air where Rose just was. The taste hits your tongue and you are startled by how fast you recognize it. 

"Forgive me for being rude," you start, a wonderful introduction, "but have you been drinking?" 

Rose looks stunned, her gracious swagger lost as she herself stumbles to come up with an answer. "Yes, well. There's hardly all that much to do. It's a very old house. All the food has- and- you know wine, it never goes out of date." If you squint you can just barely see the faint traces of a blush on her face. Her eyes are averted and oh what you wouldn't give to see her embarrassed smile forever. 

You can't help yourself. You snort into your hand. Her head shoots back up to look at you, her eyebrows creased in either confusion or betrayal. "I'm sorry, sort of ruined your whole set up there, didn't I?" 

Rose clears her throat, readjusting her posture. "Yes, you did. There's nothing to be done about it I suppose. But I wonder," her eyes are back to their lidded piercing state, you feel pinned in place, "how ever will I handle such a troublesome guest?" 

This is the moment. It's now or never. It's time to shamelessly flirt with this ethereal being. 

You lean in close, encroaching on her space, by her smile she doesn't seem to mind. You let your eyes drift slowly down her face to rest on her lips, you need to make sure she knows exactly where this is headed. You tilt your head just so to let your scarf slip ever so slightly further from your skin, and you catch her swallow. "I can think of a few ways." You whisper, thrilled beyond words by how blown out her pupils have gotten. "My name is Kanaya Maryam, fair Lady. Thank you for letting me into your home this evening." 

Rose hums appreciatively. "Last names too, huh? I suppose you already know mine then." 

You nod. "Leilahonde, yes? After the name of the manor?"

"What?" 

It seems you've thrown your vampire for a loop twice now within five minutes. You feel your own face contorting in confusion. 

"No, no no no, it's LaLonde. Not _Leilahond_ e, what sort of name is _Leilahonde_?" She stresses Leilahonde like it's offending her personally, which it just might be. Her lips are curled in disgust and you get a prime seat to witness how her fangs flash and dip as she speaks. 

"I-I'm not sure. That's just it's name. It's on the very nice plaque outside so the town just assumed..." 

"Plaque? What plaque? Since when have we ever needed a _plaque_ to announce our presen- **oh**." Rose has paused mid-rant, her hand coming up to pinch the bridge of her nose. She lets out a short aggrivated huff, shaking her head. "It seems my siblings had oodles of fun messing up the place while I was gone. Roxy probably started it, and I doubt Dave or Dirk didn't try to stop it. It was probably Dirk's idea to make a stupid fancy plaque, that has _him_ written all over it. I can't _believe_ they would deface my favorite spooky mansion like this! Do they have no sense of _shame_? Oh! Wait! I already know the answer to that!" 

She's gone on a full blown tirade now, mumbling to herself about some sort of plan to get back at them with the help of someone named 'John'. You are more than a little bit lost. The nice sexy atmosphere from before is fading quickly and it feels less like a thrilling brush with the Darkness and more like you're standing in a dusty old hallway in a wet skirt listening to a stranger rant about their family. So, reality finally seems to be kicking in. This visit...is swiftly going awry. 

"So!" You decide to bring it back around, clasping your hands together and leaning back into her space. She has successfully cut herself off mid-rant and is now blinking up at you a bit owlishly. "Since you've already broken out the wine, you wouldn't happen to desire some food to go along with it, would you?" At the very least she seems intrigued by your question. "I for one," you continue, brushing your hand along your neck, "would love some dinner." 

She smiles slowly at you and with a flick of her wrist she procures a lit candelabra. "Then follow me." 

**Author's Note:**

> It was storming, so I had to post it.


End file.
